


Privacy

by SRbackwards



Series: Consequences [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: F/M, M/M, Nude Photos, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 12:32:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5829112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SRbackwards/pseuds/SRbackwards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie's actions have consequences. </p>
<p>'There was one undeniable truth. <br/>He had to break up with Summer. As infuriating as he was, Ziggler had had a point.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Privacy

**Author's Note:**

> I decided that my Database fic needed a resolution since there's no way a person can manipulate that many people without consequences, so here's part one. Each part will be the consequences for a different person/group of people (although there might be a little overlap). If you haven't read Database, this probably won't make that much sense. Hope you enjoy :)

It had been weighing on Tyler’s mind for a while now. Every time Summer kissed him, he couldn’t help but think that he’d much rather be doing something else. Or someone else. The more he thought about it, the more he knew that there was one specific someone else he’d much rather be doing this with.

But he couldn’t. That uggo had been called up and out of his life without so much as a glance over his shoulder. Tyler wanted to be mad at him, but he knew he would’ve done exactly the same thing if he’d been in Neville’s situation. It didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt, though.

Because Tyler was so much _better_ than him. Tyler was gorgeous, Tyler was tough, Tyler was a damn good wrestler. Neville might have been able to hold his own in the ring, but he was still the short uggo with a terrible accent who had no idea how to dress himself.

And yeah, maybe he had great abs too, and was the longest reigning NXT champion in history. What did it matter? And maybe, just maybe there was a part of Tyler that had grown to think that he wasn’t such an uggo after all. But that was all gone now.

Neville had gone and left him and every good thing he’d ever thought about him became categorically untrue in Tyler’s mind. Every time he’d woken up beside him and thought that he didn’t look quite so unattractive when he was sleeping; every time he’d call Tyler ‘pretty boy’ and Tyler had felt himself go, embarrassingly, weak in the knees; every time they’d sat on the couch in Neville’s too-small apartment and talked for hours about things that actually mattered; they were all lies that Tyler’s brain had made up to try and make him think that going backwards was a good idea. His brain reminded him of them shamefully often.

It was harder now that he’d been called up to the main roster too. It was as if Neville was around every corner, waiting for him to say something. At first, Neville clearly wanted as little to do with him as he did with Neville, and that worked for both of them. They stayed out of each other’s way, barely ever made eye contact, and ignored each other unless the powers-that-be decreed that they had a match.

It was never harder than when they were in a match. It was too familiar, yet too twisted beyond anything he’d ever experienced before. It was like NXT, and not, at the same time. It was like the way they’d fight before they fucked, and the way they used to fight before they’d ever fucked, but so different and so wrong because they were fighting and they were never fucking again.

Tyler told himself that he’d be happy if he never saw that uggo face ever again, but lately, things had been changing. He didn’t _feel_ like Neville was avoiding him anymore. He’d catch him staring, more often than not, and once or twice he was almost positive that Neville was about to say something. He never did, though. Tyler never gave him a chance.

Tyler stuck to his locker room most of the time these days.

Neville was nothing but an insignificant uggo and he wasn’t worth Tyler’s time. Tyler told himself that often.

Still, there was one undeniable truth.

He had to break up with Summer. As infuriating as he was, Ziggler had had a point.

People assumed that Tyler hated Ziggler because of some weird love triangle thing with Summer, or maybe because he was always being compared to him, or because he felt like he had to unseat him before he had a real chance in the WWE, but he hated him for none of those reasons. Tyler knew that he could make it in the WWE just fine, and he rarely bothered himself with what other people thought of him. The Summer thing was almost laughable.

No, the real reason Tyler hated Ziggler was that he had been forced to watch months of WWE programming before he got called up in which Ziggler came in and acted like a big hero and rescued Neville from big bad Sheamus, or teamed up with him, or generally got too close for Tyler’s comfort. It stung that while all this was happening Neville never even picked up the phone. So maybe people were right about him being jealous, but wrong about the target. In any case, he had to break up with Summer.

It was after the final Raw of November, and Tyler was still smarting from that superkick from Ziggler. All the rage and frustration that had been building up over the past few weeks was bubbling close to the surface. With everything from Neville’s furtive glances to Summer’s gentle caresses to the memory of Dolph Ziggler’s dick etched onto his brain, it was a wonder he hadn’t snapped already.

He wasn’t going to snap at Summer. Summer had been nothing but sweet to him, and willing to wait for as long as he needed before getting intimate. She never once pressured him. He was grateful for that.

“I think we should break up,” he said. More than anything, he was tired. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes. He just wanted it all to be over.

“Okay.” He looked up. Her eyes were fixed on him, unblinking, but not unkind.

“You’re… okay with that?”

“It’s not really a surprise. You’ve been… distant. And honestly I was starting to think that this wasn’t working out.”

“… I’m glad, then. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tyler. Worry about whatever it is that’s been keeping you awake,” she said, touching his face. Without another word, she picked up her bag and left.

He went over to his vanity table and sat there for a few moments, staring at his own face in the mirror. Summer was right. He needed to sleep. He couldn’t let dark circles under his eyes ruin his perfect face. He picked up a tube of under-eye moisturiser and gently applied it. Looking into the mirror, his appearance hadn’t changed, except that he was maybe a bit shinier, but he definitely felt a little better.

He hadn’t expected it, but that had been the easy part. Now he just had to figure out a way to get The Man That Mother Nature Forgot To Make Good-Looking out of his head.

Summer hadn’t really given him the chance, but if she’d caused a fuss, Tyler wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to hold it together long enough to let her down gently.

It was, of course, Neville who ended up being on the receiving end of his breakdown.

It was the next night, after the Smackdown taping and Tyler’s ribs were aching with every step he took. Really, Neville should’ve seen it coming, if he was gonna be hanging around after a hard fought match between them. What did he expect Tyler to do? It was no wonder, really, when Prince Pretty’s first instinct when he found Neville outside his hotel was to pin him to the wall and snarl “What are you doing here?” in his face.

Neville, to his credit, didn’t seem surprised, and only used as much force as necessary to extricate himself from Tyler.

“I was thinking that maybe we could talk?”

“So you decided to wait outside my _hotel room_? What are you, a stalker?” Tyler was not ready for this. He couldn’t just sit around and _talk_ to Adrian after everything that had happened, particularly when he’d only just finished fighting him in the ring.

“No, I just saw you coming up here, and I thought… look… Breezey…” The nickname made Tyler’s hands clench into fists. “I… I think we need to talk… about… about everything.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” said Tyler petulantly. He knew he sounded like a child, but it was easier to be bratty than it was let Adrian know how he really felt.

“Look, Tyler,” said Adrian, stepping back into his personal space again, this time voluntarily, and Tyler wanted to push him away but couldn’t quite let himself. “I…” He kept his voice low, glancing both ways down the corridor to check that they were alone. “I think it must be pretty obvious that I still have feelings for you, particular after… well… and I wanted to know if you… if you still…” Neville trailed off and Tyler felt the past few weeks of repressed rage boil over.

“You… you absolute… _uggo_ ,” Tyler sputtered because no other words would come into his head, “You come here and tell me you have feelings for me and expect me just to… to… After _everything_. After you got called up and just _walked away_ from me without so much as a _second thought_ because obviously nothing that happened between us meant _anything at all_ to you.” Tyler ran out of words but Neville saved him from having to say more.

He stood up on tiptoes and pressed Tyler into the wall as he kissed him. Adrian’s lips were as soft as he remembered and again, Tyler couldn’t bring himself to push him away. So he kissed back. Tyler was a _damn_ good kisser and he was gonna make sure Neville knew it.

Adrian let out a soft noise and Tyler suddenly remembered where they were. Without a word, he pushed away from the wall, taking Adrian with him, and glanced up and down the corridor to check they were still alone. When he was sure they were, he wrapped a hand around Adrian’s wrist and dragged him into his hotel room.

*

Hours later, when they were side by side, sweaty and naked on Egyptian cotton sheets, Tyler realised that he’d been a fool to ever think they were done. How could they be done when his skin still tingled for hours after every match? How, when his stomach still twisted pleasantly every time Adrian called him by a nickname? Or when his heart did a little somersault every time he watched him go to the top rope? They would never be done; Tyler wouldn’t let it happen.

Just when Adrian took his hand in his and gently rubbed his thumb over the back of it, a sharp knocking on the door jolted them out of their brief bliss. Tyler looked at the door and then back at Adrian, but Adrian was already standing up and putting his jeans on.

“I’ll hide,” he said, and Tyler couldn’t tell if that was a touch of resentment in his voice, or if it had been too long his sensors were off. Either way, he quickly put on underwear and pants and went to the door. Once he was sure Neville was around the corner and out of sight, he opened it.

It was Summer.

“Hey…” she said, and Tyler adjusted the door awkwardly to make the room even less visible. There was still the unmade bed and clothes strewn on the floor that he hadn’t thought to pick up.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“Look, I don’t want to drag this out. But there were a couple of things I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay, go ahead,” he said, trying not to glance over his shoulder.

“Is it alright if we don’t tell the WWE universe right away? Everything is so messy right now and I don’t want to add to the confusion. And I feel like if I’m not by your side, I’ll hardly be on TV at all.” Summer was smiling, but her eyes were sad, and Tyler didn’t know how he felt about that. What he did know was that he wanted her gone as soon as possible.

“Yeah, of course, if that’s what you want.”

“Thank you.” She looked as if she was about to lean over and touch his face or shoulder, but thought better of it.

“Was there…” Tyler couldn’t stop himself from looking behind him for a split-second. Neville was nowhere to be seen. “Was there something else you wanted?”

“Oh, right. Well, since we’ve broken up, could you please delete that picture I sent you?”

Tyler leant on the door and pushed his hair away from his face with one hand.

“What picture?”

Summer glanced around her nervously, looking half-surprised and half-hurt. “You _know_ what picture,” she said, quietly but forcefully.

“No? I don’t?”

“Don’t play games with me Tyler.” Tyler realised that he may have stepped into the minefield he’d been so desperate to avoid earlier. She’d held in her emotions and now they were about to come out. She looked around again, and this time, her eyes were watering. “The picture, Tyler. Can I come in, please? I don’t want to do this out here.” Tyler opened the door but moved with her, allowing her to only take a couple of steps inside the room before he closed the door behind her. Neville was still hiding, and Tyler really didn’t want to be found out like this.

Summer was on her phone, scrolling through text conversations by the look of it.

“ _This_ picture,” she said, holding the phone up to his face. Instinctively, he looked up at the ceiling. Anywhere but the phone. Realising that this was pretty suspect, he took a deep breath and looked back at the picture. It was of Summer and she was naked, posing obscenely for his benefit.

“I’ve never seen that picture before in my life.”

“What about… but you said…” She was turning red in the face, and Tyler was worried she might start crying. She pressed the phone into his hands. “We had a conversation…” He read through it. _That definitely wasn’t me,_ thought Tyler. _Though that two phones thing isn’t a bad idea_.

“You sent me-” Summer started, but he held his hand up. He didn’t let her finish because he’d found it. He’d scrolled through the conversation and come upon a picture of himself, also naked. It was the picture he’d sent Dolph Ziggler.

“I didn’t send this. This isn’t even my phone number.” It hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt like something inside him was slowly rotting. He swayed on his feet and then dropped to his knees over the trashcan, retching in a way that was very unpretty.

“ _What?_ ” said a voice that definitely did not belong to Summer.

“What is _he_ doing here?” asked Summer shakily, and Tyler didn’t feel like explaining.

“Do the maths, Summer,” said Adrian, kneeling beside him and rubbing a hand over his back. It felt good. It anchored him there.

Summer just stared at the two of them, but Tyler couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What’s going on?” murmured Adrian. Tyler handed him the phone. Neville glanced up at Summer. “Can I?” he asked. She nodded.

He scrolled through the conversation, reading through the texts and skimming over the picture of Summer, but lingering on the picture of Tyler.

“I’ve seen this picture before. You sent it to me, too. And I sent you some back.” Neville’s voice was cold and cautious.

“I never sent this picture to you. I only sent that picture to one person, and…” Tyler froze.

“What? What is it?” asked Adrian.

“Dolph Ziggler.” Tyler started to get to his feet.

“What?”

“Dolph Ziggler,” Tyler repeated. “He- He must’ve-”

Summer covered her mouth with her hand.

“Come on,” said Adrian. “Let’s go and talk to him.”


End file.
